instance, in the Icelandic story of the Magic Queen that ground out gold or whatever its possessor desired (Powell and Magnusson’s collection, second series); in the Indian tale of the Six Brothers (Vernieux’s collection) and its Irish analogue “Little Fairly;” in the modern Greek popular tale of the Man with Three Grapes (Le Grand’s French collection), and a host of other tales, both Western and Eastern.  The fate of Ali Baba’s rich and avaricious brother, envious of his good luck, finds also many parallels—­mutatis mutandis—­as in the story of the Magic Queen, already referred to, and the Mongolian tale of the poor man and the Dakinis, the 14th relation of Siddhi Kur.  Morgiana’s counter-device of marking all the doors in the street, so that her master’s house should not be recognised, often occurs, in different forms:  in my work on Popular Tales and Fictions, vol. ii. pp. 164, 165, a number of examples are cited.  The pretended merchant’s objecting to eat meat cooked with salt, which fortunately aroused Morgiana’s suspicions of his real character for robber and murderer as he was, he would not be “false to his salt’’[FN#410]—­recalls an anecdote related by D’Herbelot, which may find a place here, in conclusion:  The famous robber Yacub bin Layth, afterwards the founder of a dynasty of Persian monarchs called Soffarides, in one of his expeditions broke into the royal palace and having collected a large quantity of plunder, was on the point of carrying it off when his foot struck against something which made him stumble.  Supposing it not to be an article of value, he put it to his mouth, the better to distinguish it.  From the taste he found it was a lump of salt, the symbol and pledge of hospitality, on which he was so touched that he retired immediately without carrying away any part of his booty.  The next morning the greatest astonishment was caused throughout the palace on the discovery of the valuables packed up and ready for removal.  Yacub was arrested and brought before the prince, to whom he gave a faithful account of the whole affair, and by this means so ingratiated himself with his sovereign that he employed him as a man of courage and ability in many arduous enterprises, in which he was so successful as to be raised to the command of the royal troops, whose confidence in and affection for their general induced them on the prince’s death to prefer his interest to that of the heir to the throne, from whence he afterwards spread his extensive conquests.

* * * * * * * * * *

Since the foregoing was in type I discovered that I had overlooked another German version, in Grimm, which preserves some features of the Arabian tale omitted in the legend of The Dummburg: